


You Said You’d Grow Old With Me

by mkh_ishe_3429



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-06-28 03:57:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19804234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mkh_ishe_3429/pseuds/mkh_ishe_3429
Summary: Set up in DH.“I wish we could just stay here, Harry,” Hermione said with a smile. “Grow Old.”Hermione, knowing Harry’s Answer (or atleast thinking she does), started to go.Harry, who was lost in thought, stood in surprise. “Wait!”





	1. Chapter 1

He felt so numb that day.

One Harry James Potter was sitting down with the snow outside their tent. Soon, Spring will come, the snow left from the months of winter will fade soon as the sun will start shining, it’s heat melting the cold of the next days to bloom a much softer hue, with the warm sun joining itself with the cold air. Soon, everything that withered will once again reawaken, to recreate what was once lost to give birth to something anew, like how the last days of December were the last holidays before the New Year will start to come with the promise of something that was never before here. Something unique to find after figuring the one from before. If only he felt the same.

He will and will always be stuck with this plague that always haunt him as each passing day become less and less bearable. He liked winter only because the cold is the exact same replica of his cold heart, and it was not pleasant to see the snow because he could feel himself being buried by it, his full being trying to sense any sort of snowstorm coming, and it will only take a few more before it comes to squash him and take over him. Soon, he will also hate the spring because it’ll be a reminder of what he needs to bring back. The light and happiness that radiates around the air after the storm, after the darkness of the year, in the hope of a promise that everything will be better than what was being left behind by the last year. A fate of a nation, of a world, resting upon his shoulder, that he only wish was gone already. It’s starting to take over his very being, and it won’t be long before he has no more control. 

As if this thoughts were being read by the person beside him, he heard her call his name. 

“Harry,...” her soft voice said through the thickness of the air. Her whisper was with the air, but in contrast as her message behind the way she said the name was warm with kindness, with passion. With a promise. 

He groaned at that. If only he could give the same. If only he felt the same emotion as his; have the same faith to himself that, yeah, everything was going to be fine, that everything will be fixed by him. No - by them. By them. She’s here because she wanted to. She is here because she knew how help to him. She’s here because she never leaves someone important. She is here because he’s her best friend.

Best friend.

That left some sort of ache that he couldn’t understand, because it was...different now.

She tried again, only with more sharpness - with a more firm reason. He looked up to her soft eyes, boring inside of him, and he felt warmth wrap inside him as he saw her desire to give him comfort; to give him strength; to give him assurance that she’s still there, that he does not have to give a shadow of a doubt, because she’s still there, believing in his capability. Believing in his worth, more than just the useless name of ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived’ or ‘The Chosen Once’, because Harry Potter is just as worthy. 

“I wish we could just stay here, Harry,” 

She said, looking around the trees of the winter forest. 

“Grow old.” 

He could see that her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and the suggestion of staying, of growing old, together, was half-heartedly stated, and it must be because of the thought of him denying. She can never blame him for it, though. It’s been his nightmare for so long, a dread that is sitting on him everyday and could see it everyday in his eyes that only made her heart ache for him each and every day. 

Not that he does not want it, but the thought never occurred to him, only because he knew of every consequence, every possible path he could take, and all leading to something dark, something that is so blurry he couldn’t see, not because of the inability without his own glasses, but because even with it, the thought of it sounds impossible. He could never think of anything but ending Voldemort, and a part of him knew he might not survive after, even when Voldemort’s already dead. Just some thought that occurred that he can never remove, but accepted as a new fact, even when it wasn’t there yet, even when it was just a possibility.

He knew he drifted off after, but it was interpreted by one Hermione Jean Granger that he didn’t want to, that it was impossible. That it was never happening. Her eyes landed on her book when he still remained quiet after, suddenly losing interest in her book - so unlike of her. She sighed, closing her book and standing to enter the tent. 

His musings stopped as his visions saw her, leaving him alone. With a panicked jolt, he stumbled as he stood, the effects after the fight with Nagini still stinging in his being and fiber, but it didn’t stop his resolve.

“Wait!” He said, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, effectively stopping her in his tracks. He nuzzled his head on the space between her neck and shoulder, holding onto her as tightly as he can. Hermione was so shocked, she dropped her book, forgotten. The feel of his arms around her was a feeling that she never thought will happen. To have him stop her with such ferocity was a rarity, if not possible. Harry himself was surprised by his sudden action, but he didn’t relent a single second.

They both felt warmth in each other. They both felt some of the tension leave from them as they gave and took comfort together. They wanted the time to stop, for someone to do the duties of someone so young to someone much fitting to be the hero, because they all just want to go home, now with much more ferocity from the thought of them in each other’s arms.

“I want to, Hermione,” he said through the crook of her neck. “I want to, so badly, to just go somewhere and be…normal…even for just a day.” She could hear the despair, the desperation in his voice, and she held her tighter as her own heart break for him. “But, I can’t. I need to finish something once and for all. Even if it meant my death.”

That shocked her to her very core, she turned to face him, wrapping her hands around her neck. “Don’t you dare say that, Harry James Potter!” She exclaimed. “Don’t you dare say it, or even think of such a foul thing!” She pulled away to look at his emerald green eyes, those wonderful, vibrant orbs that was starting to dull. Her gloved hands cupped his face, making sure he was staring right into her. “You will live, Harry, you need to. There’s still so much more to come for you, so much things to see, to be wasted just from him.”

“But, Hermione -”

“I know! It’s dangerous, and it’s unfair, but please...please, just...promise me.” She could feel her tears forming around her eyes. Harry tensed - he was never good with crying women. He rubbed her arms in a slow, awkward way, trying to soothe her.

“Um, Hermione,-”

“No. Listen to me first.” Her voice was slightly shivering, but she didn’t mind it. “Don’t you try throwing yourself to something that’ll kill you unless it’s the last resort. I swear if you do, I’ll revive you and then kill you myself.”

“Okay, okay,” he hurried, hoping she’ll stop crying, for her to stop the hurt that was looming on her. He suddenly wished he never said the possibility of death. “I won’t. I promise.” He tried to smile in a means of assurance.

Hermione visibly sighed a breath of relief. She started wiping the tears that fell, but Harry beat her to it. His own gloved hands touched her cheek, and even through the woolen garment, his skin was warm under it, and it sent a shiver down her spine. 

They only now realized how close they were - but none tried to move away. They stared into the other’s eyes, its rational side leaving for a temporary time as their hearts long for the other in a way that none knew was there. Without realizing, both were so near - so near, that it was infuriating because something deep inside them, a fire, was burning with so much anticipation, growing to fill their bodies, but their bodies never dared, stopping the inevitable to happen. Both were frozen on the spot, and the fire only ignited in a bigger flame. 

Their lips barely touched when Hermione lost her trance. Instinctively, she pushed away with one thought.

Ron.

“I...” Harry, now seeing the panic in his best friend, panicked himself. “Hermione, I’m so sorry...”

“Don’t, Harry.” She said in a tone that was meant to be kind, to be forgiving, but it only came out as a snap, in a harsh, sharp tone and she groaned inwardly. Her mind was racing at how she let herself lose her control - and it just had to be the worst of times. She turned and hurried inside the tent, leaving Harry alone in his own oblivion.


	2. Why Now?

A/N : Hi guys! Another new chapter; I really hope you enjoy this new chapter as I tried my best to write it for you guys. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated as the quality of the story is for the benefit of my readers! 

Also, this story only follows the books up until the time Hermione said if they could “stay here, Harry - Grow Old.” Everything afterwards is going to be different, like how I’m not going to include the time when Harry read ‘The life and lies of Albus Dumbledore’. I’m just saying just in case you guys start telling me that I’ve mixed or made the wrong timeline from the books or movies. :)

And this is something I should’ve placed in the first chapter. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Characters from the Harry Potter books and movies as all belong to JK Rowling. All credit should be given to her.

…~><~…

When Harry was sitting by the flap of the tent that night, he was stargazing. That night, though cold and damp even with the hundred of sweaters and jackets, still had a clear, deep blue sky. The stars were shining and high, and it gives off a small sense of simplicity and peacefulness. Astrology was not his greatest subject, but he knew that each star is meant something deeper than what is perceived. There are patterns, an invisible line connecting them together, and giving something that is bigger than just shining pieces from space. With the vast of the diamond sky, he felt so insignificant; just another person living in the smaller light, and he so wished it was true; he would give anything to leave this hell he was meant to live. If there was a way out, he’d take it rather than either be a victim - or a murderer.

He closed his eyes, trying to remove the itching sore in them as it forces him to fall unconscious, and as much as the temptation was big, he knew better; weeks and months living in the crappy old living place was an added bonus to his restless nights as every sleeping encounter leaves him sprawling out of bed, breathless and sweaty, as another vision - a nightmare - come across his closed eyelids. 

Living in this type of lifestyle was taking a toll on him so much, and was getting all of his energy, time and sanity - If only there was a way out.

“…Why can’t we just stay here, Harry?” Hermione said, with a small smile. “…Grow Old.”

The thought came, and his lips curled in contentment; he was more than glad Hermione’s here keeping him sane. Only, that smile vanished. Grow old. Oh, how he wish; how he just want to leave everything behind, and it was just them; it was just the two of them, across the world, going anywhere and everywhere they wanted, with no care about the world. With no inclination of everything going on about. But he has to defeat Voldemort, he was bound to do so; and it was his way of repayment to everyone who’s died, dying and might die; it was all his fault, he was all to blame, because he let the people he cared the most to die and give up themselves for him. It was all his fault because he was failing so miserably, out in the forest with no idea of what to do with Horcrux they have now, and have no idea where the others are; and even if they have it all, they still don’t have anything to destroy them; they are so empty-handed, that it’s so frustrating.

When Harry opened his eyes, it widened with his mouth hanging slightly open.

A beautiful, shining and shimmering doe was just out there near the trees. Its feline features were mesmerizing, with an air of life around them. It was staring right at him, as if asking him to come nearer, and he did; with Hermione’s wand around his fingers, he took slow, deliberate steps, cautious as if he might scare her. Just after a few meters away, the doe turned its body and walked to a different direction. Harry called out “wait!” to it, but it didn’t stop - The doe was trying to lead him somewhere. Harry glanced back inside the tent, where his best friend is probably lying there, sleeping. He knew at once that he’d get a great deal of lecturing from her when she sees his seat unoccupied. He could already imagine a frustrated and exasperated Hermione with arms cross and a slight pout on her lips, and it left a small grin on his face without realizing. 

Then, he turned to the direction of the animal, walking to her while keeping a look out at the forest. He was counting his steps just in case he was lost, counting the lefts and turns. His body was aching slightly due to the awkward angle he had on the floor, and his head was falling an inch or so, and he would shake his head subtly to remove a bit of the spots on his eyes. After minutes of walking, the doe had disappeared. Harry, surprised, had used Hermione’s hand and casted a “lumos” and the light on the tip of his wand lit up the small space around him as he looked around for the doe, only to realize it was gone as fast at it appeared. 

Harry was confused; why would it lead him in the middle of nowhere? Walking around, he went over trees while his feet created a crackling noise from the fallen leaves, checking his back every once in a while to see if anyone was following. As he walked, he realized there was nothing there; literally nothing! There was just trees and leaves around the area, and it was obvious there was no dark magic; there would’ve been traps around him already. So what was the doe supposed to be? A distraction? A way for him to lose his companion? 

He yelped in surprise as he stepped on something really cold the locket around his neck burning slightly, and he stumbled nearly to the ground as he shook his head, heart racing until he realized it was just a pond. He sighed in relief, and smacked his head mentally. It was just the cold water. He stood, and smacked his hands over and over to remove the leaves that stuck his palms. He was about to turn away and back to the tent, hoping that Hermione was not awake to notice him missing, but realized that he had accidentally dropped Hermione’s wand by the pool of water. Harry, who got frustrated and annoyed to his tired body for being so clumsy and lousy, jogged over the pond to take the wand. 

Then, the locket was slowly burning on his skin, he realized, and turned to look down at the locket as it buzzed. Then, something reflected down from the pond. Curious, he leaned down to see the last thing he expected to see - The Sword Of Gryffindor.

…~><~…

Hermione was busy with her books.

Books was her way of having freedom, where she could delve deep into her imagination and learn concepts in her own understanding, with endless possibilities. It’s where she could hide from reality, her mind so focused and preoccupied by the words written in each page, that she is suddenly deaf of everything around her, her vision seeing nothing but the words, her own body floating as if she was being levitated by someone. It’s her solace when everything was wrong and confusing and so … complicated. 

But that night, it did not help.

When she took one of her favorite books from her bag and sat on her made-up bed, she tried reading it - but to her surprise, she had read this so much that its appeal is not as strong as before. She ended up skipping the pages, going on the topics she enjoyed the most, only to realize she had memorize it by heart that she can recite this book back-to-back. She threw it down back inside the bag, and took Hogwarts: A History. She was able to read it through the first few chapters, but a certain thought just kept on coming:

“When in doubt, go to the Library.”

And when she thought of that phrase she had used, she remembered Harry, and instinctively shut the book without going back on it. It was the same phrase that plagues her whenever she used her textbooks from Hogwarts and decided to skip those. She didn’t want to read those books that involve the dark arts, specifically Horcruxes - it only reminds her of what its done to them. She tried fiction - but it only came worse. She didn’t realize she had unconsciously packed romance, drama novels, and she already knew that it would not distract her, but would only make her emotions stronger. 

That’s when she threw her whole bag as far away as possible, landing a soft thud across the room near the tent flap. With a frustrated sigh, she rested her head on top of her hands, elbows resting on her thighs. 

Really, can’t a girl have something to keep herself stable?

She tried sleeping on the hard, crumpled, and dirty bed, but her thoughts continue to push her to have those horrible thoughts of when she had nearly kissed Harry, and it stung to even remember, her heart being squashed down from so much guilt for doing this torment to him, guilty for nearly cheating at her boyfriend - even if he did leave - and much, much angry at himself for doing such things, for letting those things happen to her. It was in the middle of the night when she decided to check in on Harry. Of course, it’d be awkward, but didn’t think she could survive without talking to him, and maybe just a small talk with him would help. 

But when she went outside, he was not there. At first, she thought he was just around. She checked back in the tent at his side of the room, and saw it untouched, and had a quick glance at the other places in tent, but he wasn’t there. Alarmed, she went over around the area near the places she covered with spells, calling his name, and he still wasn’t there. Now, Hermione was panicking. He wouldn’t have left her, would he? 

No! Hermione thought. He wouldn’t. 

She checked outside the circle, and went around the woods - not too far from the tent itself, going in and out to check if he was there again. She didn’t have her wand as it was with Harry, and knew she was vulnerable without it, but she still walked and walked around, keeping herself from shouting his name, in fear that it might attract unwanted attention. But her eyes were starting to water and it’s just coming, and it’s so irritating and distracting that she couldn’t control it because it was blurring her vision, and keeping her from focusing on her task at hand as she wiped her eyes occasionally. Her own heart was thumping so loudly she can barely hear her surroundings, and each step was so slow because there was a throbbing from her head from all the anxiety. She couldn’t help but fret; to feel anxious and angsty and mad and disappointed and everything in between. 

When she returned to the tent, she was in full panic mode. Where could Harry be? She can only imagine so many dark, and really disturbing thoughts - like how Harry‘s fallen from a mountain and didn’t think to use some levitation charms or conjure a soft cushion on his landing; he might’ve drowned somewhere, maybe a lake or something, and didn’t know how to swim or lost her wand deep down, or even worse - he might be with the death eaters already! How he’s being enslaved, tortured with spells and punches and kicks. She can easily imagine him screaming his lungs out as one of the death eaters hit him with an Unforgivable spell, most probably the Cruciatus, as they laughed maniacally over him. 

She groaned as she sat down on her bed. Why, why why would Harry be so ignorant and leave her?

But that’s when her head started fighting itself.

But he can be anywhere! If I leave, I won’t be able to stay and keep things fixed. Her side of the brain said.

And if you don’t, he might as well be dead! The other said.

No - Harry’s too strong for Voldemort.

He’s a teenager!

A teenager who doesn’t act his age!

Oh, come on! Don’t leave Harry the way Ron left him.

Hermione’s eyes widened at that, and her heart had stopped for a second before she took deep breaths, forcing her brain to stop their bickering. She had clutched the fabric under her, and she kept her eyes shut so hard it started to hurt. Don’t leave Harry the way Ron left him... the thought was stuck on her head, and it won’t stop. Be the person he needs the most.

She scoffed inwardly. She’s going crazy! Her head was constantly beating themselves up like when she did when Ron left. Her mind just kept going to Harry, and every time she thinks of him, she can’t help but hope that he’d be back, the way she hoped for Ron to come. She was just sitting there, thinking of ways to fix everything, just like…just like when she did with Ron. Only, it’s different - it’s deeper, darker, and really, really cold inside; an emptiness that was worse than when Ron left.

She tried to reason with her mind then and there, that it must be because she really was alone - but it was wrong. She pushed that it’s because Harry leaving or whatever was still fresh - yet she never felt this cold when Ron left. It was all anger and disappointment when Ron turned around without turning back, like someone sent a fiendfyre around them; but Harry was more of emptiness, darkness, cold, like somehow without Harry, a dementor came to suck every happy memory and thought. 

That’s when she came to a realization - she’s in love with Harry Potter.

She’s in love with Harry Potter, her best friend.

And this was the first time she had wished that she was not so perceptive.


	3. I Love you Too Much it Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter! And I promise you, it won't be dark in the next chapter! Constructive Criticism is always appreciated.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Characters from the Harry Potter books and movies as all belong to JK Rowling. All credit should be given to her.

...~><~...

[I would like to time skip this to after Ron had destroyed the horcrux :)]

Harry could't stop his hands from shaking, and now he was wet from sweat instead of the water down the pond. His eyes were just as sore as his neck, and the burning in it was equal to the burns in his fingers from holding on the horcrux; but it didn't matter. Nothing does but the locket. It was lying over the rock, still and unmoving - just like how it should have been. There was no more life inside the shell, no more soul living through its features, and Harry thought it could be the best thing in the world to remove it - but it wasn’t.

Slowly and with shaking hands, Harry took the locket between his palms, hands tightly clutching it as if the horcrux would move back around his neck - or worse, bring out his own nightmares.

He look back down to Ron, beads of sweat around his pale face as his back was slouched on the rock he was sitting on. Harry knew what it mist’ve felt like to feel so lost - that the dreams that only plagues your mind would coexist with your equally terrible reality. He felt pity for him, definitely, but he also felt pity for himself. 

Because no matter what he does or what he wants, he can never be hers.

Hermione could never be his.

When their lips barely met on that fateful day, his mind was wandering all over the place as he sat on the flap of the tent. His eyes were unfocused and lost, and everything around him was gone - it was only that one moment that was being played over and over again in his mind, and no matter what, he couldn’t shake it. He told himself that you belong to one Ginny Weasley, that he’s in love with her. That the only reason he broke up with her was for her to be safe from harm’s way. But a part of him denied it, because it wasn’t just that. He’s in love - no, he’s still in love with his one and only best friend.

It all made sense, no matter how wrong it seemed. Falling in love with your best friend, whom you have considered as a sister, is wrong - especially since she was in love with your other best friend, and you were supposedly in love with that mate’s younger sister. It sounded wrong and it was confusing, yet it made perfect sense. It was an answer he was scared to admit to anyone, yes, but it was the closest thing he could accept. And in that moment, his heart leaped, as if saying ‘I told you so’ to him, while his body screamed for him to move not only because of his stiff joints, but to tell Hermione.

It was also the day he had this small hope that maybe - just maybe - he can call her his.

Only, it was ruined all in a span of minutes. 

To see Ron again was so elevating. He was breathing through his nose and mouth at the same time, hands clutching at the soil underneath him even as it stuck because of the water he’s pulled with. He was laughing and nearly crying at the same time, to see his best mate standing there with the locket that could’ve killed him, wet in the face and red fiery hair sticking out - but it was still him. He was more than happy, and he was thankful for Merlin for bringing him to help. Only, the smile had lost its full spirit when he remembered Hermione. 

Bet she’d be happy to see Ron again. He thought.

But he shrugged the thought away. He might’ve lost the chance to tell her how he feels, but maybe she’s changed as well. Maybe, after the next few weeks of them three together, that he could observe her, and see her reaction - if he has the chance to be with her.

Then, Ron’s nightmares were right in front of him; literally.

There was dusk and dark figures emerging from that locket, and it rocked him to his very core. He was there alongside Hermione. They looked sinister with dark mischief; perfect orbs cold and distant boring into Ron and Harry’s very fiber. They were a beautiful replica of themselves, but a perfectly odd twisted side that made them disgusting. And the rants - Merlin, the rants they talked - the taunted, drawling way they spoke was too close to reality that it felt uncomfortable. And it was in their energy, in the way they walked gracefully and poise, with confidence and authority, that this was not them - it never will be! - yet, it was Ron’s nightmares.

No matter what, it was these fears and insecurities that brought Ron to run away out of pure instinct; for him to feel so grumpy and frustrated everyday, and it wasn’t just because of the lack of nutrition, nor the lack of progress, no - but his fears seem to reflect in front of his very eyes with the way Harry and Hermione seems to work - how they blended well together, as if in perfect sync - and when they figured out how to destroy the horcruxes, finishing each other’s sentences so naturally, and the light that radiated off their faces was so against Ron that he had to run away because it was too much.

In a way, he understood Ron. Because he felt the same way when they were together in Hogwarts. Only, he was blind to see it was for his feelings of jealousy rather than the feeling of being left out.

He came close to Ron, and slowly he opened his sweaty palms up in front of him, the chain looking rusted and the shell of the locket dangling. “You did it, Ron.” He tried to say encouragingly, only to be met with silence. Harry sighed a bit dejectedly, and sat beside Ron on the rock. He could see the sword of Gryffindor over Ron’s thigh limply. “Ron, what you saw there…it wasn’t real.” He tried again, and continued saying words that was taken half-heartedly. He wanted his best mate to understand, that all of the words spoken was to ruin and destroy him, but none worked. He could only think of one way, and it easily squeezed his heart painfully.

“Ron…I -“ he paused, and tried to gulp away the lump building in his throat. “I love Hermione,” that part will always be true, and it meant so much more - much, much more than anyone realizes - but no one should know that. “But…not in the way you think.” He mentally flinched at how his voice sounded thick, but was glad Ron was thick enough to not realize. “She’ll always be a sister, Ron. She thinks the same way too.” Now, his voice cracked when he said ‘sister’, and his heart stopped beating for a moment before his heartbeat came back faster than before, along with a pang of guilt and pain with it - but now’s not the time for him. Ron needs his best mate right now.

He pushed his feelings away, all the guilt and pain and sadness that engulfed his very being, and stood up, lending a hand to him. “Now let’s go. She’d probably be happy to see you again.”

…~><~…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter done, next soon following!
> 
> P.S., this chapter’s shorter than the other two, that I can say, but I need to get this part here. Next Chapter’s in Ron’s perspective :)


	4. Darkness? Fear? I’m Still Here

Ron was staring aimlessly out in the open flap of the tent, wandering with his mind as it starts to go ver the slow, boring yet super painful all the same.

When Ron first came in, he already expected Hermione to be mad, to be upset yet happy that he was there - that he returned. But he didn't know that it was this intense, that the happiness was barely visible through the way she acts and behaves around him. She was just always so distant, always looking at him like he was a disgusting slug. It would quench his heart quite painfully. Yes, he knew that he made a terrible mistake. He knew that he should never have left in the first place. Knew that it was all his fault and his alone that they were left in a very emotional situation in the middle of desperation. But, couldn't she forget? Can she not just forgive his repetitive sorries since he arrived a couple of weeks ago?

Hermione was outside, fetching something for the three of them to eat. Harry had insisted that he can handle it, but Hermione was (as always) stubborn to a fault. She said that since Harry was going to cook for them, and Ron (this she said with a glare) was busy, she'd help in finding for food. Though, Ron knew better, and that it was just an excuse to stay away from him. 

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. Really, what'd a guy do to deserve this?

Standing up with hunched shoulders and dragging his feet, he was quick to slump down by the radio he had brought from Bill's Cottage, turning it a couple of times as he tries to get the program they always listened to. He wasn't able to know the password - probably missed it while waiting for Harry and Hermione to come out - and he's now whispering random words as he tries to take luck and get it right. 

Just then, Harry came inside from the tent flap, brushing off some leaves. It was spring already - there's no more snow, just the forest now. The sky was clear, the water's warm, the wind still breathed a bit of the cold from winter, and the animals are much livelier now. It was a perfect season for Harry to walk around. It became his hobby, whenever there's nothing to do around the tent. He'd circle around the place, just walking around and listening to nature, as Harry would say. Rom always wondered what he was thinking about, and why he never once invited him along. 

"Hermione's not here yet?" Harry asked Ron from across the room, removing his light sweater and pulling his bag off from his shoulder - because sometimes he'd take more than half a day out - and putting it down by his bed. 

"No. Probably looking for something much better to eat." Ron replied, back still turned to him. 

"Huh." Harry's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "She should be here by now. It's not winter anymore - and it doesn't take her longer than 15."

"Why? How're you so sure?" He couldn't help but sound bitter.

"The weather." Harry shrugged. He sat by the bench near the kitchen, and started flipping through the pages of 'The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore'. 

He sighed. It was one of the things that enraged him. And no, it's not because of him reading about Albus Dumbledore. It was like Harry and Hermione knew each other more than he knew her.

When he left, he was an enraged mess. He was stubborn to a fault, as thick as dragon skin, and face and ears burning red as his fiery hair. The snatchers didn't help as well, and only added his fuel of frustration and madness. It was when he got to Bill's place was he able to calm down (even if maybe he was still red in the face. Or clutching his wand like a lifeline. Or still glaring at everything). It was during his time in the Cottage did he really reflect on everything. When the flame finally ceased deep inside, he was regretting ever to leave them. How could he have been so stupid and too sensitive to even leave them? Out all alone, under the cold, with barely any thick walls to keep them warm, a small fire alit just outside the tent because it'd burn the thin fabrics. Honestly, he felt so ashamed that he didn't face anyone and was so ignorant of Bill's rants about his attitude - he's had enough with his mind, thank you very much. 

He also thought about his relationship with them both. When Ron was with them, either Harry or Hermione, he was more than content. He didn't feel like he was just another Weasley in the family, that he actually had a name and knows something. He felt like he can express himself without any hesitation and false judgement, where his presence wasn't a burden, but is accepted. It doesn't mean that his family felt shame to have him - no, never - but he still felt overshadowed by his brothers. Felt lower than his own little sister because she was the first female in the family. Felt like he had to live up to people's expectations because of his family's achievements - Bill works for goblins as a cursebreaker; Charlie was a great Quidditch Seeker before investing his time in dragon; heck, even Fred and George's widely known because of their joke shop in Diagon Alley! And what does Ronnikins have? 

Nothing. He just knows how to play chess and knows the basics of Quidditch. 

What about Harry and Hermione's relationship? Well, that was still harder to reflect on. Deep inside, there was still the jealousy inside. The deep fear and torment that she'd just disappear out of thin air. There's still that part of him that really wondered what was going on between them - if he even was worthy to be intimate with one Hermione Granger, instead of platonic. And yet, his heart said that Hermione will never do that to him. That while there was still something going on between them, she'd be loyal and faithful to him. She'd still trust him, care for him, and love him even when he was so far away. And Harry's not a stranger at all. His presence with Hermione shouldn't be threatening and scary - but should comfort him because at least Harry will protect Hermione no matter the cause. Because he loves her - like she was his own sister. Harry himself had said that to Ron. 

And maybe Ron should trust his word on it. Maybe. Because there was still this nagging feeling inside Ron that something wasn't right. But he can't put his finger on it.

Just then, The flap of the tent opened and Hermione was back, a paper bag in hand and the invisibility cloak in the other. "Sorry it took so long...I thought maybe buying to the store and it had a long line." She replied as soon as she entered, then crossed the room to give Harry his cloak before taking out the goods. 

Ron could only nod. Her reaction was always the same glare to whatever he said. He continued on with the radio while Harry and Hermione talked.

"Anywhere we can head out? We've been here too long already." Harry asked as he flipped a page from the book.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe somewhere in farther down North?" Hermione said. "The last I heard, snatchers were moving west, and started packing."

Harry nodded. "Maybe. We might also track down where they're heading?"

"You're joking." Hermione said incredulously. "I'm not about to go hunt down snatchers to reach You-Know-You."

"I'm not saying we should." Harry said defensively. "Just saying that maybe if we can see a pattern, we can avoid them more while we hunt down you-know-who's horcruxes."

Then, out of nowhere, Ron snorted in amusement. Hermione's head snapped quick to him. "What's so funny?" She said in a clipped tone.

Ron shook his head. "You stopped saying his name."

Harry and Hermione glanced at each for a few seconds, as if this was some sort of new revelation to them. "Well, yeah," Harry said.

"Since when?" Ron asked.

"...Since you left." Harry shrugged, though he said it a bit quieter.

"Oh," Ron replied, just for something to say more than acknowledgement. He was still muttering with the radio, until he finally got it working. "Hey Guys! I got the program again!" 

Just hearing the excitement from Ron, ignited some sort of hope to them that they hurried to sit near the radio - Hermione didn't even notice that she sat beside Ron and Harry on his other. Nome of it mattered anyway. What mattered was the voices in the radio, the people talking and the information they were sharing. They laughed with each other when the speakers were making references they knew about. They'd stare at each other in amazement and recognition when they hear a familiar voice. They'd stay silent when they hear deaths but was glad none too many. And when the program died, they were all wide eyed.

"Wow." was all they said, and they laughed when it was in unison. Hearing the voices and their support on them, even when they were far away, warmed their hearts. Hearing their hope sent out some newfound determination and strength to finish what they started. 

(Part 2 of this is in Progress)

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I got that done and there's more. It's not as happy as I hoped, but better than the other :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and everything behind it. All credits go to Jk Rowling


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